The Troubles of a Pevensie
by The Dewed Tulip
Summary: Between Peter, his father and Susan, Edmund has a few problems on his mind. It isn't easy being fifteen when you're really thirty. /BROMANCE - no slash/ Multi-chap/
1. The Scariest Word

Edmund Pevensie was having a bad week.

It had been a while since he had, had one of those.

All things considered, it had been a particularly pleasant month. It was nearing the end of August, almost all of his family members were currently together for the long-overdue holiday and now that the awful war was over it was a sure thing that their father, whose face as well as voice had already become quite unfamiliar to Edmund, would be coming to finally join them too.

He was fifteen – technically, thirty at the moment, but who really bothered to count anymore? - and both he and his older brother had finished their last year at the boarding school that they had been attending up until that point. Peter had altogether graduated while Edmund would now be switching to a new, private school closer to home. Susan had put her foot down and insisted that she continue attending 'Saint Finnbar's' although he couldn't very well fathom why. He could remember that there had been a time when she had hated the place.

As for Lucy, she would also be going to an academy near his and this meant that they would be living together for the first time in what seemed forever.

It had cheered him quite a bit.

The future was uncertain as well as how pleasant this school experience would be, but Edmund didn't like to dwell on that. 'It never pays to be a pessimist', he preferred to mentally repeat to himself. This was something that Peter was apt to say to him on more than a few occasions and therefore also magical words that never failed to cure him of little as well as bigger anxieties. Although, on another note, the eldest of the Pevensies had the most ridiculous case of the 'Worrywart' syndrome Edmund had ever been witness to and was also, in this way, a total hypocrite.

Even though it was raining, he had just been thinking about what a dreadful time he had been having and Edmund was sure that in the next few seconds the damp, paper bag that he was holding was going to tear under the weight of the groceries inside, he had to smile.

Just thinking about Peter was a sure-fire fix to any sour mood even if the reason being was that they had fought and a disagreement had been the cause.

Still, he had to admit to himself that it was through no fault of Peter's that the bad week had happened – at least, not directly.

* * *

Monday had gone well, up until six in the evening when Susan's date cancelled on her on account of the flu.

His older sister, who was usually more than a little unpleasant for Edmund to be around, had been remarkably agreeable for most of the vacation.

It had almost reminded him of previous days when she had been fondly called 'The Gentle'.

This sudden alteration of plans had caused a snap change in her demeanor and suddenly he was being ordered about by the bossy Susan that they were all more accustomed to.

It would have been too embarrassing to show up at one of the dances that she liked to attend without a partner and therefore Edmund would just have to come along.

Being the good brother that he strove to be, he went along with the plan and tried not to complain as he sat at one of her tiresome parties for three hours, bored out of his mind.

The night ended well enough. He went home, climbed into Peter's bed and they had a good laugh about it.

* * *

The next day, they woke up and had just been getting ready to go out for a full day of real, authentic, honest-to-goodness fishing, just as Peter had promised that they would, when a call had come in for his brother.

After repeated questionings of who it was, he received no proper answer, but rather a quick apology of how they could _not_ spend the day together and how he would be back at the house late that evening before rushing out of the door in a flurry of excitement.

This left a befuddled Edmund to sit on the staircase and wonder how he was going to occupy himself for the rest of the time until the magnificent King's return.

He ended up peacefully reading a book in a corner of Lucy's room, seeing as she had numerous fluffy, stuffed animals for him to sit on, nobody was home and there was nothing else for him to do.

The rest of his family _did_ come home, but only Peter was still missing. His mother finally gave him an explanation.

"Oh, didn't you know? That old friend of your brother's is back in the neighborhood for the summer, visiting his grandmother. It's been a long time since they've seen each other - he's graduated too, I expect. His name is Frederic, Frederic Townsen."

Edmund recalled when the boy had lived there.

That was before the beginning of the war, before the wardrobe and even before Aslan. Back then, the two Pevensie boys hadn't even _liked_ each other.

It had been a _very_ long time.

Edmund didn't have much time to think on this. Yet again, his sister wanted to borrow him and wear him as an accessory at another dance-party. Reluctantly and with much self-discipline, he forced himself to go once more in order to make her happy.

Susan was and the night passed by at an excruciatingly slow pace. His brother wasn't in bed to talk to him about it afterwards.

* * *

Peter wasn't to be seen on Wednesday and Lucy demanded that they go to the park.

Edmund did.

With relief, he understood that Susan did not need him for that particular evening.

Gerard - or whatever his name really was - had gotten better.

* * *

Thursday was long and it rained.

The shocking thought came to him that perhaps Peter had already gone fishing with this 'Frederic' person by now and would no longer want to do so with him.

Disturbed, he asked twice whether or not this was so.

Both times, Lucy and his mother assured him that he hadn't.

* * *

For most of Friday, he stared frustratedly at the walls, debating whether or not to go to this person's house and just drag his brother home - where he belonged.

Lucy stumbled across him and began to laugh.

"Honestly, Edmund! You've had him all to yourself for - what? - _thirty_ years now -"

"Not _all _to myself," he found himself protesting.

Lucy ignored him.

"- Can't you let poor, old Fredric have Peter for a _few_, measly days?"

He set his jaw and gave her a stubborn look.

"No."

His sister bent down into a crouch and brushed a hand through his hair with a sudden tenderness.

"What is all of this _really_ about, Edmund? I think you and I _both_ know why you've been so out of sorts lately."

He refused to respond. He also refused to go with Susan later that night when she needed him because Gerard had gotten into a fight with her.

He decided that he didn't care when she told him that he was selfish.

* * *

On Saturday, Edmund thought to himself once and for all that 'Frederic Townsen' was the most absurd name he had ever heard of and that only the silliest person in the world could own it.

Therefore, it was high time that Peter come back to him and stop associating with silly people. He nearly picked up the phone to tell his brother this fact and then stopped in embarrassment.

In the back of his mind, he knew that this was all extremely immature and made absolutely no sense, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

Edmund couldn't remember the last time he had been like that. He was feeling agitated, restless, hurt and the tiniest bit of actual anger.

And, why?

He didn't _know_ why. No matter what Lucy said, he didn't.

Later that night, he was informed that while he had been taking a walk, Peter had come back briefly, but then left.

* * *

During Mass on Sunday, a certain someone slipped into his pew, wrapped an arm around his shoulder and kissed his cheek firmly.

"I've missed you, brother," came the whisper.

Edmund tensed a little, still mad, but unsure of what he was mad about and not prepared to delve deeper into that subject. In the end, he only gave a short, awkward nod in return, which Peter noticed as a little odd and made him frown.

They didn't say anything more, fully captured by the service and their communion with 'Aslan'. Edmund's prayers were unfocused, helpless and a little ashamed. He apologized about being nasty to Susan and telling her that he understood why Gerard wouldn't want to see her anymore. He acknowledged that he shouldn't have ignored Lucy when she was trying to talk to him. This was followed by so many 'What do I do?'s that he nearly lost count.

Just as soon as the service ended, he ignored the little, nagging voice telling him to turn around, embrace his brother and tell Peter that he had missed him even more. Lucy reprimanded him with a look, but he didn't turn back to what he was sure was an utterly confused High King. He linked arms with his mother on the way to the car and idly questioned about his father's return. Edmund didn't listen to half of the answers.

On the ride home, Peter loudly proclaimed that Frederic had returned to wherever he had come from and asked his strangely quiet brother if they wanted to finally go fishing that day. Edmund gave a toneless 'no' and hated himself for it.

He could practically feel Peter's alarm rolling off of him in strong waves as well as his burning stare and Edmund felt compelled to look at him, but couldn't. As they exited the car, his brother tried to catch him by the arm. Edmund didn't quite shake off the hand, but it was clear that it was unwanted as he walked by. A series of 'Ed's assailed him, growing in volume, and by the end of the third one, he pounced.

Peter had literally toppled him to the grass, holding him down with both arms and legs in a locked position. Susan and Lucy glanced at them in mild amusement. Their mother didn't even bat an eyelash and called out that someone was supposed to get the groceries at some point that day. She was already used to these passionate outbursts between her boys.

_"Edmund Pevensie, _you are going to tell me _right now _and _right here _what is bothering you or I _swear_-"

Edmund struggled indignantly, but he could hardly budge and it was obvious who was stronger. Peter cocked an eyebrow, smiling.

"If you think you're getting out of this, you're seriously mistaken."

He had a flashback to a time when there had been a golden beard on that face.

"Will there ever be a day when you don't tackle me to the ground every time I don't want to talk to you?" Edmund asked tiredly, catching his breath. "I mean, there has _got _to be a better way-"

"No, there isn't and you're changing the subject," Peter interrupted flatly.

There was an unspoken expression of 'I know you too well already' behind his stern eyes and it was clear who was looking at him at that moment. Unknown to most people, there had been a cataclysmic shift in the Pevensie family structure around twenty years ago although it only seemed like five and nothing had ever been the same again. When he had been ten, their father had left for the army, all four children had been sent to the countryside and then they had entered a new world entirely.

After becoming Kings and Queens in this beautiful and wondrous land, they had still been nothing but children with no definite, authority figure, excepting Aslan of course, to guide them or personally care for them. There were assistants, advisors and any number of kind individuals, loyal to their monarchs, but this was no replacement for an individual who would unite the family and lead it. Ultimately, Peter had taken on this role and had even surprised himself by how easily he slipped into it. It had been only natural, right from the start.

Edmund had a father who was coming back to England in two weeks, but he also had another, much more familiar two parts brother - one part father unit, who was right there on top of him, demanding to know why he had been so coldly ignored when they hadn't seen each in five whole days.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked in a softer tone. "Have I been a thoughtless idiot again?"

Edmund didn't say anything - not because he wanted to be stubborn, but rather he didn't know how to word it. Peter released his forearms, seeing that he wouldn't fight against him and sat like that for a few minutes.

"Is it the fishing trip? Because I broke my promise?"

"A little bit," he conceded in a small voice.

Peter sighed and squinted at the sky.

"I'm sorry, Ed. That was wrong of me."

He leaned down and touched his face.

"I really do mean that."

Edmund looked to the side, determinedly not looking at him.

"I know," he mumbled.

"What's the rest of it then?"

He really hated being cornered like this. It had all been his fault that it had escalated into this, though. He should have just gotten it over with and hugged him at church.

Would it really have been so hard?

Seeing that he was still silent, Peter let out another gust of breath and stood up. Edmund was surprised. Reading his expression, his hybrid brother/father rolled his eyes.

"I'm not just giving up, you blockhead."

He blinked.

"Time. I'm giving you time. You obviously need some before we can get to the bottom of this."

Peter narrowed his eyes at Edmund's relief and pointed a finger at him.

"Mark my words, I'll find out sooner or later."

Lucy was watching from the front door and giggled at them as they entered the house.

"All made up, then?" she queried.

Peter shot him a searching, weary gaze.

"Not completely, buttercup."

"Hmm."

Edmund squirmed under their scrutiny and quickly ran down the hall, thinking of something to get him out of the house and away from everyone for the better part of the day. None of any of his school friends lived remotely close to their neighborhood and he didn't really have any clever excuses. Finally, he picked up a large book and decided to go to the park.

"I am going _out_," he dramatically announced to his mother, proud that he could say this.

"Oh, all right," she replied cheerfully, continuing to wash the dishes. "But, get the groceries while you're doing that, dear."

Edmund stared at her in disappointment at the lack of reaction.

"And, where is that _to_ exactly, Ed?" he heard from behind him.

Swiveling around, his brother was leaning casually against the open doorway of the kitchen. Both eyebrows were raised and it was an intimidating picture.

"Some - _somewhere_," Edmund got out defiantly.

Peter eyed the book under his arm and understood immediately, rubbing his forehead and breathing out heavily.

"_Of all the_ - Come off it, Edmund. You aren't _really_ going to spend all day in the park reading to avoid me, are you? What if it rains? You'll get sick. You always get sick during this time of year-"

"I'm - I'm not! I have a friend. I'm going to see a _friend_, Peter. You're not the only one who has friends!"

Peter wrinkled his brow.

"I know that you have friends, Edmund. I _know_ your friends. I've made it a habit to know them. But, unless I'm mistaken, I'm pretty sure there aren't any close ones around here and I don't want you to hang around in a park by yourself-"

Edmund huffed in frustration.

"Well, I've made a new one - so there! While you were off with 'Freddy-whatever-his-name-is' I made a _new_ one!"

He tried to push past him, but Peter didn't let him through and instead took a hold of his chin, examining him.

"You're behaving very childishly today," he noted, as if to himself. "Have I been neglecting you? I've left the house to see friends before and you weren't _this_ odd when I came back."

Frustrated by the lack of power needed to get by his git of a brother, he flailed uselessly against him. Eventually, Peter began to shift and Edmund took this opportunity to tickle a side of him that always caused his brother to react violently so that he could be easily sidestepped. This worked, like it usually did, and he dashed off out the door while the blonde eighteen-year-old gasped for air.

* * *

It did rain later, just as Peter had thought it would, and this was how Edmund ended up trudging home at the present time, clutching at his dripping groceries and wishing that he had brought an umbrella.

One thing was for sure, his overprotective, older brother wasn't going to be happy when he saw the state of how soaked he was. Racing to the cover of the porch, he shook the water out of his hair before knocking on the door. Susan answered with an impatient look on her face.

"_Finally. _It's about time you got back," she told him, swinging the door open.

"It's nice to see you too, Susan," he greeted, his nose twitching.

She sighed in exasperation.

"Well, come on in already. Peter's about to open his letter and he might have a fit before he does if he sees you like that."

Edmund shuffled in, taking off his shoes, and then thought about what she had said.

"Letter?"

His sister tossed her head to the side.

"You _know_, the letter."

He straightened up slowly.

"I'm afraid I don't."

She rolled her eyes.

"Come on. What kind of a letter would Peter be waiting for right about now?"

Warning bells were beginning to ring in his head, but he didn't want to listen to them. Lucy suddenly appeared behind her and sent her sister a warning look.

"That's enough," she cut her off, in a much sharper tone than she usually spoke with. "Never mind, Edmund. Come with me and get out of those wet clothes."

He allowed himself to be led by the small thirteen-year-old up the stairs and changed in his room.

His mind was whirling in circles and his insides felt rather numb.

With heavy footsteps, he walked down the hallway and stopped at the top of the staircase.

There was excited yelling and jubilant shouts, but Edmund was far from happy about it.

Halfway down, he could understand what his mother and Susan were saying.

"Oh, _Peter dear! _We always knew that you were brilliant...your father told me so many times, even when you were little. Your father would say to me, 'Helen, that boy, _that boy-"_

"I _can't _believe it - do you even understand what this means? Oh, you never do, do you! You're going to be counted in high society now. You'll have no trouble at all finding an upper class wife...and that means that _I'll _be upper class by relation!"

"Susan, darling, I don't really want to get married right now..."

Stiffly, although he had no idea why he would do it, he reached the bottom step in order to take in the scene with his own eyes.

His oldest sister was flushed and jumping up and down. His mother was equally pleased, but managed to control herself.

Lucy sat on the counter and there was sympathy when she caught his eye.

Peter, last of all, seemed a bit dazed, but held the paper steadily in his hands - a letter that had a large 'University of Oxford' seal on the very top.

_University._

That was a word that he had unconsciously almost erased from his vocabulary.

Edmund's breath caught in his throat and he almost choked on it. The small sound was enough to make his brother's head turn and their line of sight connected. He registered the split-second that it took for Peter to finally process what exactly had been wrong with him.

He let go of the letter and it floated softly to the floor.

_"Oh, Edmund," _he exhaled with feeling.

Edmund didn't want to hear it and ran back upstairs.

The truth was that he hadn't been upset by the fact that this person's name was 'Frederic Townsen' and it sounded silly to him.

He hadn't been upset by the fact that for once in an admittedly, very long time Peter had spent more than one day with a person that wasn't Edmund.

He _had _been upset by the fishing trip, but that was really only a detail.

The real reason why Edmund was upset was because his brother, the person he loved the most in the entire world, would soon be abandoning him for a strange, new place that Edmund didn't know anything about and said brother had decided to waste a chunk of the precious time, which Edmund had been treasuring and savoring, until their separation with a goofball called 'Frederic', not really caring either way.

Peter was leaving and it scared him to death.

* * *

Author's Note: New chapter coming up :)


	2. Change

It wasn't long before Peter found him on the windowsill of his room, looking for all the world like someone had just died.

The 'Magnificent' approached carefully. Edmund was still.

"It was pretty obvious, wasn't it?" he spoke softly.

He placed a hand on the younger boy's forehead, causing him to look up.

"Sort of."

Peter kneeled down in front of him and rested his forearms on Edmund's knees.

"I'm sorry," he said for the second time that day. "I'm sorry for being such an idiot."

This didn't really satisfy Edmund or make him feel any better. In fact, he was more embarrassed now.

"You're not an idiot," he told his brother quietly. "I'm the stupid one for getting so worked up about this all by myself."

Peter moved to sit beside him and shook his head in earnest.

"Do you really think this isn't difficult for me too?"

If it had been, he certainly hadn't shown it.

"It _is_."

He paused to explain himself.

"It's just...I haven't been thinking about it, I suppose. We hadn't talked about it either, not even once. It's been there - in the back of my head - but never _real_ like it is now. I've gotten the acceptance letter only today so..."

Seeing that his brother was ignoring his words, Peter turned his shoulders so that they were facing each other.

"...do you understand what I'm saying? I snapped out of the daydream and I'm awake now. Fully awake, Ed - I do understand what this means for all of us."

Edmund fought to keep a neutral expression on his face, not willing to concede.

"Don't you _dare_ think that I don't care. Look me in the eye and just try to say that I don't," he ordered calmly.

Part of Edmund wanted to be obstinate and say that he didn't, but another part recognized the gravity in the blonde's severe gaze and couldn't bring himself to do it. His expression softened and he pulled the boy, who was blinking rapidly now, into a secure embrace, keeping his head tucked under his chin.

"I wouldn't go if I didn't think it was best for everyone. You know that. We'll all be adults someday and we can't live off of Mum forever. I have to find a decent job now so that I can support you three - no matter what happens."

"The King of Narnia needs to find a job," Edmund mused aloud, thinking that it was just as odd as it sounded.

"Yes, he most certainly does."

There was a profound silence and the mood was more somber than before.

The Pevensie family had never been by any means especially wealthy, but lately it seemed to Edmund that they were nearing a new financial low. Late at night, he could sometimes hear his mother and Peter discussing how many bills could be paid that month. With their father coming back home, all of this would be most likely resolved, of course, but he, who had lived a luxuriously comfortable life where he hadn't had to spare a second thought about money, was a little disturbed to see that these were things that they would now have to worry quite seriously about.

His brother seemed to be thinking to himself.

"It isn't as if we haven't been apart before," he murmured. "It just seems worse because the situation's a bit different now-"

Edmund snorted into his chest.

"'A bit'?"

"-I'll just be away for a little longer than you're used to, that's all."

This was an outrageous understatement and he thought that his brother should know.

"In case you've forgotten, 'your magnificence', I haven't lived for _two weeks_ without you in the last twenty years we've been together."

Peter was quiet for a second and then began to burst into laughter.

"What in the _world_ are you talking about, you ridiculous person? That's all wrong. Don't you remember all those campaigns-"

"It doesn't count. They weren't often."

"-and that time you went with Eustace and Lucy-"

"Doesn't count either."

"_Edmund."_

Peter released his tight hold, sat back and threw him a playful smile.

"Are you going to continue being this nonsensical for the rest of the holiday? I must say, I'm looking forward to it. It's been very amusing so far."

Edmund grumbled incoherently in response and leaned back into the previous hug, subtly demanding physical affection.

"It's _felt_ like that to _me _anyways," he finally settled on.

A hand came up to stroke his hair.

"No, I expect you're right. I've always had the means to make sure that you were never far away from me if the situation allowed it."

It was true. Even when the situation had been far from ideal, Peter had a knack of getting things arranged exactly as he liked them.

At the beginning of their first term of boarding school together, Edmund had almost been roomed with a large, unpleasantly tempered fellow before his brother had put in a few, charming words with the normally immovable secretary and she hadn't been able to refuse his wishes.

By the end of that day, Edmund had been transporting his scant belongings into a highly pleased Peter's dormitory room. Edmund was sure that this was a result of the charismatic presence that he had learned to project onto other people while he had been 'High King'.

Whatever it was, it certainly never failed.

"You don't think you could convince those Oxford people to let me move in with you?" Edmund suggested with a tiny bit of hope.

It could work.

After all, this was _Peter. _His King, his leader, the one person that he admired the most.

What _couldn't_ he do?

"Not this time, Eddy."

Hearing those low, gentle words along with the affection-filled nickname at the end, seemed to open the floodgates of pent-up emotion.

Edmund was no crybaby - he should have been old enough to be over that phase by now - but, when there was good enough reason, he hadn't had much sleep and he was an emotionally jumbled mess, he had no qualms about bawling into his older brother's shirt. It wasn't as if he hadn't done it before.

"We're still in the same country, aren't we? I'm not going to a different planet, am I?"

Peter's voice had faltered and it sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than Edmund that everything was going to be fine.

"Think of it as I'm going away for a short trip to slay a giant. I always came back to you from those just the same, didn't I?"

This _was_ a comforting idea and, between sobs, Edmund thought to himself that it was decidedly strange that he was more upset about his brother going off to live in a perfectly safe although unknown institution than a situation within which he was away and in actual, potentially fatal danger for a short period of time as long as they still technically lived together. Then again, maybe this was because he had seen enough to be confident that it would take much more than even ten giants to defeat his High King.

"I'll call you every chance I can and I'll visit even more. An entire army couldn't keep me away."

He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn that he felt Peter's hand tremble for a second where it was brushing back and forth across his scalp.

"It'll be like nothing's changed at all. You'll see."

Edmund nodded and swallowed, hoping that he would be right.

* * *

Two weeks passed and there was a certain tension within the household - the sort of tension that could break at any sudden moment and cause someone to crack, resulting in hysterical bouts of tears and insane laughter. Two important things were about to happen and the anticipation was setting everyone on edge.

One was happening sooner than the other and this was the reason why Edmund was carrying Lucy's water pail as she continued to clean the floor with a wet rag. He had also rolled up his pants and was helping her to give their wooden floorboards a 'heavenly shine', as their mother had termed their goal.

"Mum seems excited, doesn't she?" Lucy commented lightly.

Edmund threw his sister a wry look.

"A bit _over-_excited, I would say."

They had just undertaken a house cleaning a short while ago and he had thought that they had done a more than sufficient job. He hardly thought that this was necessary now.

She shook her head at him.

"Oh, don't be like that. I can't imagine how nerve-wracking this must be for her."

Edmund stopped scrubbing and studied the surface of the wood. It was nerve-wracking for _all_ of them.

"It's only two days away now," she continued, her voice sounding peculiarly distant. "Can you believe that? _Two_ days until Dad is home."

For their mother, it had been five years since she had seen her darling husband, but for the Pevensie children it had been much longer than that. There were many questions that arose in their minds that did not exist in their mother's. Even Susan, who stubbornly insisted that she was exactly seventeen and not one year more, appeared to be uneasy when the topic came up.

"Lucy...do you..."

He frowned and she looked at him expectantly.

"...do you remember..._much..._about him?"

The question made Edmund feel ashamed and he regretted asking at all. She sat up slowly from where she was bending over and crinkled her nose.

"He wore spectacles at times...when he was reading and -"

She tried to end on an optimistic note.

"- he was nice?"

Edmund sighed.

"Yeah, I thought so. I'm just as bad. I bet Su isn't much better either."

Lucy winced.

"I know what you're getting at. That _is_ a bit of a problem, isn't it?"

In the beginning, it had been difficult to get into a halfway normal relationship again with their mother as well, but they had never fully regained the mindset and memories from the time before. With their father, it was even worse because he had spent less time at home than their mother, seeing as he had to go out and work.

"Well," she exhaled. "We'll just have to deal with it somehow - just like with everything else."

"Of course," he agreed. "It's going to be fine. Mum was fine - this can't be too different."

With that problem aired out, he dunked his sponge into the bucket, but the worry didn't completely leave his mind for the rest of that afternoon.

Would it _really_ be fine?

He didn't know.

* * *

In the evening, he found Peter in their father's study, already poring over one of the books that he had purchased for university, which was a mere week away.

"You really _are_ happy about going, aren't you?" Edmund called from the doorway.

Peter's head shot up from the pages and he smiled widely.

"All that rot about not wanting to leave was a lie. You're all set to get up and abandon us, aren't you, Mr. Oxford?" he further questioned, not seriously accusing, but rather teasing.

Peter leaned back into the chair, crossed his legs and laughed.

"Don't be so dramatic! I'm not going to _abandon _you, Edmund Pevensie."

A side of his mouth quirked upwards against his own will and he strolled over to the desk, lightly tapping a binding.

"But you are happy, aren't you? Don't try to deny it. You would absolutely _love_ the idea of spending the rest of your life in a stuffy classroom."

Peter scowled at him playfully.

"I happen to value learning and it doesn't torture me to study an ancient text - so, _yes, _dearest brother, it does make the sacrifice a bit easier."

His voice had softened around the word 'sacrifice' and Edmund could see the sincerity in his eyes. He looked around at the bookshelves and cleared his throat, hoping to steer the conversation into an area that was less emotional.

"So, you've been holed up in here all day while we were preparing the house for the arrival of the King of England?"

Peter rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Edmund. I've been lazing about for hours because there was _nothing_ to do, _nobody_ bothered with me and Mother specifically only wanted to bend _you three_ to her whims."

Edmund enjoyed the sarcasm.

"Thought so."

He played with a pen.

"I was outside, in case you didn't know. The grass suddenly needed to be cut and the bushes needed trimming."

"Everything _suddenly _needs to be fixed around here, doesn't it?"

Peter leaned an elbow on the table, looking up at him.

"You don't think that Mum is going to wear herself out, do you?"

"Lucy and Su are making her relax," Edmund replied. "I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"I won't."

He blurted out his next thought.

"You're not going to be able to use this place as much as you used to, you know -"

The next word was difficult for his lips to form.

"- Dad...Dad will want his study back."

How incredibly _weird_ it was to say that to Peter's face!

What had possessed him to utter it?

The eighteen year old's expression was unfathomable for a second, but then it cleared and he shrugged.

"He can have it then."

The words were light, but Edmund caught the slightest something behind his blue eyes that made him shiver. It was definitely not a good idea to be joking about that right now and he resolved not to venture into those waters in the near future.

Peter stood up and closed the book.

"Should we go down for dinner then?"

Edmund exaggeratedly gestured a hand towards the door.

"Lead the way and I will follow, sire."

His brother ruffled his dark hair and hooked an arm around his shoulder.

"What will I ever do without you, Ed?"

"Absolutely nothing," he responded smartly.

"I think that you may be right about that."

The grin was wiped off of his face when Peter decided do something completely unfair and kissed him right on the crown of his head. Edmund was almost quite certain that he did this with the express intent of shocking him.

He was blushing scarlet from head to toe and ducked out from under his brother's hold, indignant.

"You're too sodding sentimental, did you know that? You can't just _do_ stuff like that out of the blue!"

"But, I want to," Peter protested innocently.

He gave him a long, suspicious look and grumpily went away without another word while the High King chuckled to himself.

* * *

Eventually, the day dawned upon which Frank Pevensie would come home and nobody was prepared for it. His mother was rushing about the kitchen, making a big fuss over little details, such as whether there was dust on the counter or not, when they had all contributed to making the house look better than it had in years, even in the time when their father _had_ been in England.

Edmund ate his breakfast slowly, his nervous stomach revolting at the idea of consuming food. Peter, already finished with his bacon and eggs, sat beside him and absentmindedly rested a hand on his brother's neck, knowing that it would slightly calm him.

"Arriving in an hour at the latest," Helen Pevensie mumbled to herself. "He'll want to rest right away, to be sure. No telling when the last time was that he had a good night's sleep..."

"Mum, sit down," Lucy suggested. "He won't come any faster if you keep pacing like that."

"Exactly," Susan agreed, waving a fork about in the air.

"Right. I suppose so..."

Peter yawned for what seemed to be the hundredth time and Susan threw him an accusing look.

"What the devil did you two _do_ until some godforsaken hour in the morning? You both look like exhausted wrecks!"

Peter smiled slightly at her.

"Ed and I had a rough night."

It was generally known within the family that eight times out of ten Edmund slept in Peter's bedroom - firstly, because the bed was more spacious than Edmund's, secondly, it was a long-held habit and thirdly, wherever Peter was, was where Edmund wanted to be and vice versa. It was very rare to see them spending the night in separate bedrooms and when they chose to do so it was easily assumed that there had been an argument.

Edmund, hearing his name, looked up blearily and Peter turned to him with amusement, gently brushing the hair away from his forehead.

"Isn't that right, Eddy?"

He snorted and waved off the hand, not in the mood. The sight of his brother's drooping eyelids still made him feel massively guilty.

"Did you two have nightmares?" Lucy asked worriedly.

She knew from experience that these could be quite intense. Peter dismissed it with a shake of his head.

"Nothing like that - just couldn't fall asleep."

Edmund might have corrected that it was _he _who couldn't fall asleep and not Peter, but was too tired. He had been tossing and turning for most of the late hours, anxious about the next day. His older brother had been woken up multiple times by his shifting.

Edmund had offered earlier on to get up and move to his own bedroom so that at least one of them could rest, but his idiotically selfless sibling had refused, saying that he wouldn't be able to have peace of mind if Edmund was somewhere else, and even stayed awake so that he could softly scratch his back until Edmund drifted off. Naturally, when Edmund had finally understood what Peter had in mind, he tried with all his might to escape, but was promptly pinned down before he could get far.

It was odd that a large part of their most trivial arguments went like this. Edmund disagreed, they wrestled, in which Peter was stronger, and things were resolved. Now, if they had been _dueling _that would have been entirely different. He had always been the best swordsman. Then again, where does one find a pair of proper swords in the middle of the night?

Edmund was lost in these thoughts and had also failed to follow the conversation.

"What will _you_ say, Edmund?"

This came from Lucy, who was staring at him.

"Wha-?"

"What will your first words to Dad be?"

He felt the weight of all of the eyes around the table upon him and blinked.

"Um, 'hullo', I guess?"

His mother laughed for the first time.

"Yes! That's always the first thing to say, isn't it?"

Edmund was embarrassed, but happy that she was smiling.

"Well, let's all clean the dishes before he gets here, shall we?"

They did and he felt like he was going to be driven bonkers if their father didn't already show up.

Peter, who hadn't shown the least sign of being disturbed before, seemed to be contemplating something very deeply with his brow scrunched up in all seriousness. Edmund approached him from where he was looking out of the window.

"What is it?"

There was no response. Concerned, Edmund laid a hand on his arm.

"What's wrong?"

Peter shook himself out of his stupor.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Edmund didn't believe a word of it, but also didn't see the use in pushing him.

A car honked outside and he jumped, startled. From his mother's yells, he knew who it was.

"Go outside," Peter told him, facing the window again.

Edmund hesitated.

"Don't worry - I'll come soon as well."

What he really would have liked was for his older brother to go _with _him to face their newest challenge, but he didn't want to be a coward either so he obeyed and numbly left.

He lingered by the open doorway, watching Susan be embraced by a man of middling height with a frame that wasn't quite broad and wasn't quite thin. Squinting, he could make out the dark brown eyes that he had inherited. In fact, it seemed that Edmund took after their father's facial features the most. Walking until he was close enough to see him clearly, the fifteen-year-old stopped.

Frank Pevensie had now caught sight of him and traversed the distance between them eagerly.

He had remembered this man's appearance vaguely, but the memory contrasted with what he saw now. His ten-year-old mind had been filled with the idea of the huge, admirable stature of a hero-like man who was infallibly right and someone with whom he constantly wanted to spend time with although most of the time Mr. Pevensie had not been available to the young Edmund.

His biological father didn't seem so big now and he, himself, wasn't so small anymore.

In truth, the man before him was a total stranger and Edmund felt rather foolish, standing there with nothing to say.

The stranger, however, seemed to have a lot to say, but couldn't get it out on account of the tears that were shining in his eyes.

"Eddy - _Eddy, my boy!"_

"Hullo," Edmund greeted uncomfortably.

Susan sighed with exasperation from where she watched on the sidelines.

"Just hug him already and be done with it, idiot," she muttered under her breath in his direction.

Edmund was actually grateful and took the hint, awkwardly reaching out an arm.

His father took the real initiative and fairly squeezed him to death while Edmund tried to breathe. Thankfully, Mr. Pevensie was soon distracted enough to drop him.

_"Peter!"_

He regained his wits and watched his brother allow himself also to be hugged in the same manner. Gone was the pensive boy that Edmund had seen inside and, much to his relief, it seemed that Peter was back to normal.

Finding that he was needed, he hurried off to help with the luggage.

* * *

After the bags were carried upstairs, they all gathered together in the sitting room for a short while with the specific purpose of talking to the estranged father that Edmund knew little to nothing about. Lucy sat on Peter's lap on the couch with Edmund beside them and a Susan perched on the arm of the sofa that his elbow was resting on. Their mother sat in a single chair across from Mr. Pevensie.

"You're all so grown-up now!" their father exclaimed, looking a little taken aback. "These aren't the children that I left five years ago, are they, Helen?"

Mrs. Pevensie laughed and shook her head.

"They're just the same ones, dear."

Frank shook his head in disbelief.

"What have you all been up to, then?"

No one answered immediately, not even Susan, who Edmund was surprised to see looked unsure of herself and kept glancing over at Peter. It was their mother who eventually took hold of the reigns of the conversation and started a brief summary of what had been happening while he had been away.

"You all went off to the Professor's then, did you? That must have been very hard to be separated from your mother," Mr. Pevensie remarked.

"Not too difficult," Peter replied with a winning smile. "The stay was...interesting enough that we were quite distracted."

Edmund held in a snort and exchanged an amused look with his brother. In his opinion, one was a great deal more than 'distracted' when you frequently forgot the name of the country that you used to live in or that you had ever even had a mother.

"Of course, of course," their father muttered to himself. "You, my brave man, wouldn't be bothered by any of that, would you?"

He beamed at his son.

"Well, it sounds like you've done a fine job of taking care of your brother and sisters in my place. You've kept your promise, after all."

Edmund had been watching Peter closely enough and recognized the moment when the mask of control faltered.

His lips had tightened for the briefest second. Lucy had seen it too and turned to Edmund. They both shared the same apprehension.

"Yes, I suppose I did."

Mrs. Pevensie continued with the story all the way to the end, concluding with what the present state of schooling for that year would be.

"Oxford! I'm going to have a son who goes to _Oxford!_" Frank thought out loud to himself.

"We're all very proud of him," their mother added.

"Isn't it absolutely marvelous?" Susan inquired to no one in particular.

Edmund nodded because it felt like it was the thing to do. He wanted to show his support in some way.

"We're going to miss him something awful though," Lucy quietly put out.

Peter sighed and rearranged his arms around her.

"I know that _some of you-"_

He gazed pointedly at Edmund, who looked back sheepishly.

_"-_don't believe me, but I really am going to miss you all much more terribly."

"How sweet you are!" their mother said, touched.

"I'm sure that it will become easier with time. You'll learn to like being on your own," their father commented, sipping his tea. "After all, a boy can't stay at home forever."

Peter didn't respond.

"And both Edmund and Lucy will be here for the rest of the year. It sounds like we three have some catching up to do!"

Mr. Pevensie smiled at the two of them and Edmund tried to return the expression convincingly.

"Of course, it's a pity that Susan is leaving, but I'm sure that we'll see enough of each other during the holidays."

Mrs. Pevensie stood up.

"We'll have enough time for talking later. I'm sure that you're tired from the journey, dear."

With this, their father took a nap and the Pevensie children were left to quietly ponder their newly returned family member.


End file.
